


It isn't over yet

by AngelSimmer64



Category: Brooklyn Nine-Nine (TV)
Genre: Depression, Eating Disorders, Emotional, Emotional Roller Coaster, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Mental Health Issues, Panic Attack, Self-Harm, Suicidal Thoughts
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-09
Updated: 2020-11-22
Packaged: 2021-03-05 06:14:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 5,812
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25169770
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AngelSimmer64/pseuds/AngelSimmer64
Summary: “Ames, I’m okay I promise…I just had a hard couple of days… I’ll email some of these therapists next week if I don’t start feeling any better okay, I promise”. I say locking fingers with Amy and gently kissing her knuckles reassuringly.It's scary what a smile can hide.What Jake doesn't know is Holt and Amy can see straight through his act, but will Jake accept the help he clearly needs before it's too late?
Relationships: Jake Peralta/Amy Santiago, Ray Holt/Jake Peralta
Comments: 11
Kudos: 98





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is my first story on this platform, I've been reading fanfactions for ages on this website but I finally decided to join this platform and write my own fanfiction, please give feedback I'd love to improve. This whole story has a huge trigger warning, themes of self harm, suicidal idealation, panic attacks etc.
> 
> *In case any of you were wondering, I personally have suffered since 2014 from generalised anxiety disorder, panic disorder, depression, OCD and atypical anoreixa, I do not want this to be triggering for anyone else so please, please don't read if this can trigger you, i'm in recovery and have been for a long time and I want to write this book because I love B99, the characters and I feel as if Jake does have some unresolved issues which I'd like to dive down into and write about. 
> 
> I hope to make this a series if enough people are interested! Thanks :)

Nervously I glance around the precinct to ensure nobody is staring at me, I know it’s irrational, but my thoughts haven’t been able to slow down lately. I always fear they’re watching me.  
Judging me.  
Wondering why I’m even here.  
Amy Santiago, my wife, and soulmate is tapping away at her computer keyboard with a focussed expression.

Tap  
Tap  
Tap 

Charles is laughing at an image on his phone, probably something Nikolaj sent him through his mother’s phone.

Laugh  
Laugh  
Laugh 

The noises in this room are getting unbearable, I clasp my hands together interlocked under my desk and hope for the sensory overload to subside, but it doesn’t.  
I stare at the clock centred in the middle of the main wall of the precinct.

Tick  
Tock  
Tick  
Tock 

I slam my hands onto my desk in frustration, achieving some puzzled looks. I laugh it off and walk as quickly as I can out of the precinct. 

And breathe.

I take in the chilled midday New York air, not clean as of such but it’s air, nonetheless.  
Why am I like this?  
Sighing I head back to the precinct with a plastered on fake smile praying that nobody sees through it today.  
I subconsciously roll down the sleeves of my purple collared shirt to cover last night’s fuck up, I don’t want to aggravate the cuts I made because if it bleeds through my sleeves, I’m dead. I walk in flashing a smile to a clearly confused Rosa before heading back to my desk and staring back into space, these episodes keep happening where I can’t breathe and I have to get out, which is definitely NOT practical in any which way for a NYPD cop. 

Fake it till you make it, I guess.  
As I start to fall into a daydream, I feel a firm hand on my shoulder, it must be Terry.

“Hey Jake, Holt wants to see you in his office, think it’s about a case” he smiles whilst opening a pot of creamy vanilla yogurt.  
Yogurt, Jake hasn’t enjoyed yogurt in what feels like forever, then again he only eats when someone is with him, because what’s the point in eating when nobody can see you and reassure their little heads that old Jake Peralta is absolutely fine, it’s a trick I’ve learned over the years of me being totally screwed up.  
“thanks man, enjoy your yogurt!” I quickly say whilst walking to Holt’s door.  
Terry shoots me a confused glance, then looks back at his yogurt and shrugs his shoulders.  
I swear I used to be better at communication, what went so wrong?  
“Peralta have a seat” Holt orders motioning to the cotton worn down chairs opposite him. 

I close the door and sit down in a seat, hoping this exchange won’t take long as I already have a huge headache from earlier and just want to go to sleep.  
Holt’s normally stern eyes soften a little as he pushes back in his chair.  
This can’t be good.  
“Peralta, I’ve been watching you the past few days as I’m your Captain I need to keep watch of my detectives and ensure they’re always working at their best…” he starts.  
I grimace, there we go. I am getting fired, that’s it and now I can kill myself because work is one of the only things keeping me on this god damn planet.  
“I’m sorry Sir, I understand” I say solemnly whilst handing my badge back and searching for the gun with my pale shaking hands.  
“Peralta, what are you doing? Holt asks, clearly confused.  
“I’m saving you the favour of firing me, I know I’m a lousy detective and you could’ve gotten anybody to do my job better than me, I’m not worth the hassle Captain, I get that” I rush.  
“Peralta what in gods name are you talking about, you’re a great detective and a good worker, do you want to quit this position?” he asks thoughtfully.  
I shake my head with tears pricking my eyes.  
“No, I like it here. I’ll do better” I say with my voice breaking on the last three words.  
The captain shakes his head, furrowing his brows.  
“Peralta…are you alright?” he asks with his head tilted in confusion, a little bit like how Cheddar responds to basic questions.

These words break me.

Gripping to the ends of my shirt sleeves I plaster on a huge fake smile and nod my head enthusiastically.  
“Peralta, what are you hiding?” Holt prompts, looking suspiciously at my arms.  
“N-nothing, I’m cool cool cool cool” I begin.  
“enough Peralta, did you get a tattoo, is that what you’re trying to hide from me? I won’t be mad at you or anything Peralta it’s just a tattoo, a way I believe your youth ‘express themselves’ nowadays” he adds air quotes around the express themselves part.

Jake knows he can’t lie about a tattoo to his Captain because he’ll find out he’s lying and there’s nothing Holt hates more than liars. 

“I just got scratched by a friends cat, I was cat sitting” I rush, hoping for no follow up questions.  
“You were asked to cat sit? Who’s cat?” Holt asks, amused.  
“Ah you don’t know him, my old college friend Barry went on vacation, and I’m his cat sitter apparently” I finger gun towards Holt as casually as I could.  
Holt looks as if he’s about to ask me more questions when the Sarge bursts in.  
“Captain, Rosa broke her computer again sir” Terry gasps.  
Saved by the slightly scary and can’t control her anger but still very lovable Rosa Diaz.


	2. Chapter 2

“Hey babe, are you going to eat lunch today or just focus on that case like you’ve been doing for the past two days?” Amy laughs at me.  
I’ve been pretending to be caught up in this random case I picked out the pile, so I don’t have to eat meals with people, and I can get some time alone. I eye Amy’s neatly packed lunch nervously.

“Eat, Peralta” a voice behind me commands.

Turning around with such a scare I see the concern etched on Captain Holt’s face.

“Ah thanks dad will do after I’ve linked some more of this case with-“ I start.  
“No, you’re on lunch break for a reason. Eat” he commands slightly more sternly.  
Sighing I push aside the stack of paperwork I’m pretending to go through and walk as slowly as I can to the fridge, shakily I pick out the least calorific food items in the fridge, which is difficult since Hitchcock and Skully prefer the more calorie dense delicacies.  
Some carrot sticks, I originally stored these for Amy but she hasn’t eaten them yet.  
They can’t be that many calories, let’s do this…I can eat some carrots, right? I ask myself concerned.  
Sitting back down at the table I feel all eyes on me, I confidently bite the carrot stick feeling panic rise inside of me, I haven’t eaten for a while and this feels so wrong.  
Standing up to wash out the carrot stick container I see black spots dancing around my vision, and as a result I fall back into the chair, dazed.

“Peralta, my office. Now” Holt commands.  
“Hey dad, lunch date?” I muse. I know Holt secretly likes being called dad, even though he will never admit it over his dead body.  
“you haven’t been eating have you Peralta?” he says, concern etched in his face.  
These words hit me like a brick, what the fuck am I supposed to say to that?  
“ah sorry Sir, had a lot of paperwork to go through” I start  
“bullshit” he interrupts.  
“excuse me?” I smile, amused that the captain will swear in my presence.  
“I know that case you’re working on was solved 3 months ago, you’re using it as a cover up to pretend you’re doing something, so you don’t have to spend time with others.” He starts  
The walls around me feel like they’re closing in.   
Tighter and tighter

Must. Get. To. Safety. 

My breathing starts to spike, I can feel my heartbeat in my ears and I close my eyes because   
Not here.

Please not here.

Anywhere but here.  
It’s no use, I can’t stop it. My breathing gets faster and faster to the point I give up trying to control it and I just look at Holt with terrified eyes.  
“Peralta… are you alright? Do you need a medic?” he asks, rushing to my side.  
Holt leaves the room for a moment, whilst I still have my eyes closed so tightly.  
“Babe? Babe are you okay?” a female voice asks me, with clear concern.  
He bought Amy in, of course he did.  
I just start to cry because fuck it, I clearly can’t hide whats about to happen and Holt and Amy sit either side of me, Amy with her arm tentatively around my body and Holt seemingly counting something.   
“it’s your pulse Peralta. You’re having a panic attack” he says matter of factly.  
Well no shit sherlock, I think.  
“breathe with me… in and out, in and out.” He commands.  
“I….can’t” I cry  
“yes, you can Peralta, breathe with me. Right now,” he commands, softer this time.  
I hold Amy’s hand for dear life whilst still shaking like a leaf. It feels like hours until I can breathe normally again.

“Jake, what happened?” Amy says tearfully, still attached to my arm.  
“these happen sometimes” I laugh sheepishly.  
Amy and Holt exchange confused glances before turning back to me, confusion and horror on their faces.  
Shit  
My sleeves are slightly rolled up, I was too panicked to notice.  
“Jake… where did you get those?” Amy asks, uneasy.  
Holt looks at Amy and smiles at her.  
“you didn’t know he was cat sitting?” he asks.  
“Jake…hasn’t left the house unless it’s for work…where did you get those Jake?” she asks, clearly agitated.   
“you lied to me Peralta?” Holt laughs almost disbelievingly.  
“yes…you couldn’t know how I really got these” I cry softly into my hands.  
I get up to leave Holts office, I can’t do this anymore. I look up pleadingly to Holt and catch Amy’s sad and concern filled eyes.   
“I’m sorry” I say with my hand on the door handle.  
“oh no you don’t Peralta” Holt says, intercepting my hands and motioning me to sit back on the chair.  
“show us” Amy whispers.

I hesitantly roll up my sleeves, wincing every time a fresh cut got caught on the fabric.

“who did this to you, Peralta?” Holt asks, visibly angry  
“we’ll get them arrested Babe you just need to tell us” Amy prompts.  
“I did” I say sadly, rolling down my sleeves hiding my crimson creations.  
“why” Holt and Amy ask in unision.  
“Because I fucking hate myself, I don’t want to live anymore the only reason I’m living is for my friends, Amy and this job…I know I won’t keep this job I always fuck up and I’m too stupid to get anything right at all, ever. I’m so tired of living like this, I’m terrified everyone hates me and I starve myself so I can have control over literately anything because I feel so out of control of my own life right now. I cut my arms with the blade I hide in the picture frame in the bathroom, I’m not proud of it but it helps me feel something other than complete numbness” I blurt out, letting out a huge sigh.  
“I love you” Amy says sadly  
“We will help you, Peralta” Holt says softly.

I shake my head.  
“you can’t fix me if I’m part of the problem” I say, matter of factly.


	3. Chapter 3

“Jake you can’t keep pretending as if today didn’t happen” Amy cries out of frustration.

She pokes me gently, concern filling her chocolate brown eyes with every single poke. Tentatively looking around for anything to change this topic my eyes gloss over a binder in the centre of the coffee table, the sides of my mouth pulling into a smile when I see it knowing exactly how to change this subject.

“Babe, when did you get this cool binder?” I ask clearly way too enthusiastically with a hopeful grin.

Amy shakes her head at me, picking up the binder delicately and flicking through casually.

“I’m glad you like it, because this is a comprehensive list of therapists you can see, ordered by rating and reviews” she gushes triumphantly clasping the blood red binder to her chest.  
I stand there in front of her, dumbfounded and lost for words.  
Okay, I didn’t see that coming…  
“Ames, I’m okay I promise…I just had a hard couple of days… I’ll email some of these therapists next week if I don’t start feeling any better okay, I promise”. I say locking fingers with Amy and gently kissing her knuckles reassuringly.

That seems to distract Amy enough to drop the subject and start kissing me passionately on the couch, I wrap my fingers around her delicate frame and smile.  
It’s one of those nights where I just can’t sleep, I’ve got work tomorrow morning and I can’t risk being tired especially whilst I’m a safeguarding red flag in the precinct at the moment, it’s killing me having to act fine now just to stop Amy from worrying. She has diagnosed panic disorder herself and I know this can cause her to start having those attacks again, it’s just not fair on her.  
Scrolling through my phone I see my newsfeeds filled with smiling faces, skinny bodies and lots of food videos, I think one thing with my obsession with losing weight is my obsession with food, the calories consume my every thought, my math had never been better actually with the amount of mental arithmetic I use on a daily basis just to ensure I don’t overeat. I’ve lost six pounds in two weeks, which could definitely be better for sure. 

You don’t deserve food, you fat pig.  
You don’t fucking deserve love; I whisper angrily to myself. 

I repeat this until I drift off into a dreamless sleep.

Walking into the precinct hand in hand with Amy I put on the biggest smile I physically can and almost skip into the precinct, past Captain Holt and then I sit down at my desk.  
I can do this, don’t let them in.  
You’re not worth it, Jake. I say to myself.

All through the day I catch Amy and Holt glancing over at me periodically, ensuring I ate lunch with them which I managed to sneakily dispose whilst Terry ran into Holts office to discuss a recent murder which of course was more important than making me, a grown ass man eat my lunch like a fucking child.   
“How are you feeling today, Peralta?” Holt asks when Terry finally leaves the office, a pile of undisclosed paperwork in his hands.   
“I’m fine today, how are you today Dad?” I ask amused, this always gets him to drop whatever father act he’s pulling. He says it’s for the safety of the precinct and his detectives but deep down I think we both know he thinks of me as the son he never had.   
Holt does not look the slightest bit convinced. 

“I wasn’t born yesterday, Peralta” he begins, thoughtfully stroking his chin.  
After what feels like an eternity of staring at each other, he finally speaks again.   
“I know these things don’t just go away, and I don’t like liars. Do not lie to me Peralta I can only help you if you want to help yourself”. He states.

That’s the thing though, I’m not even bothering to ask for help because I don’t need it, everyone has problems, everyone is fucked up in their own way and I’m not thin enough to need help with my eating, I’m not sick enough to get help for how depressed I fucking feel, what the fuck is the point of even living I think.

“I know, thank you for caring Sir, but Amy and I are handling it. I smile convincingly.

Holt nods slowly and uneasily.

“You know where I am if you need me, Peralta” he says, officially.  
"I do indeed" I smile as forced as I can handle whilst getting up to open the office door.

"But i'm not worth the worry" I mumble inaudibly   
"What was that?" Holt asks, eyebrows raised.  
"Nothin Captin' I chirp walking out the door.


	4. Chapter 4

Anxiously typing those words on my phone, I hit send before I could overthink it. It’s a message to Captain Holt telling him that I’m doing well, I’ve looked into therapists and I’m doing what he asked me to, staying alive. 

I wait and wait

And wait

And wait

He's read the message...

It’s a Saturday, so I’m not at work until Monday… the perfect time to have a nonverbal conversation over text, right?

He left me on read and went offline

Did I do something wrong?

Did I say something wrong?

I’m a fuck up, of course he hates me wasting his time he’s the fucking captain of the entire 99th precinct in New York and here I am sending him stupid texts trying to keep my job and sound mentally stable enough to work as a fucking detective.

Tick

Tock

Tick 

Tock

I want to launch the alarm clock next to a sleeping Amy so far out the window it’s unreal, it’s ticking mocking me.  
It’s only just turned nine thirty at night, normal adults would have a social life on a Saturday but Amy and I are having a quiet night in, well the plan was to watch diehard but I guess Amy was so worn out she needed the early nights rest.

Works for me though, more time alone and hating myself.

Periodically I scroll back through Captain Holt’s and I’s messages overthinking each and every word.  
Why would he ignore my message?  
He must hate me…  
I don’t blame him though, because let’s be real here…I hate me too. 

A sinking feeling keeps gracing my stomach every time I think about work, do I even still have a job? He keeps leaving me on read now I’ve messaged a few times turning the topic to my work and a case I needed his input on. Still left me on read.

Some people are busy, Jake I say to myself attempting in pure futility to rationalize my overactive thoughts.

Fuck it, he wouldn’t have read my messages if he were that busy… he hates me doesn’t he, and who am I to blame him because I hate me too.

Gently I feel a delicate hand grasp my arm, Amy pushing her head into it in a deep sleep.

Yes, this hurts a lot.

My fresh cuts rubbing against the material of my unwashed t-shirt from the pile of clothes I have in my dresser, Amy doesn’t quite know about that… she thinks I keep it tidy.   
Ow ow ow I whisper to myself as she grips harder into the flesh of my skin, for comfort.  
Karmas a bitch Jake, I say to myself.  
A couple hours pass, Holt is still on and offline periodically, I see his status and he’s just completely ignored my every message.  
Anxiety keeps bubbling up inside of me.

What if, what if, what if…  
They don’t fucking stop do they?

I need a break, or a vacation… preferably from own mind.

“Jake, hey babe it’s time to go to Ginas birthday bash” Amy pokes me gently, repeatedly.  
I moan loudly into the soft sky blue pillows.  
Why, just why?

I would rather do anything than go out to a party, socialising and eating high calorie foods laughing about superficial shit with my friends, I love Gina dearly but I don’t like spending time with the squad because I don’t want them to become suspicious of how mentally unstable I really am.   
Sighing I go to stand up, but promptly fall back down onto the mattress with my vision spinning and fading in and out of darkness.  
Luckily, Amy was preoccupied brushing her chocolate brown hair with pride looking into the mirror on top of her vanity.  
God, she’s so perfect.

My second attempt to get out of bed is a lot more successful, I pick out a long sleeved shirt and get dressed in the bathroom, every single time my phone goes off with a notification there’s a ping of anxiety when I wonder if it’s Holt telling me I’ve still got my job, I’m fine and he’s proud of me for communicating…but, it never is that message from him.  
I know full well that If I do end up being fired or suspended from the squad because of my poor mental health I’ll end up straight in hospital, I don’t care about me I only care about my work and Amy…Amy will move on because let’s be real here she doesn’t deserve a shitshow like me and she can do miles better, the squad will be happy because they’ll end up with a decent co-worker who deserves the job and Holt will be happy he doesn’t have to babysit little emotional immature Jake Peralta. 

And honestly, that’s why I need my job so damn badly at the moment.

Helping others is my passion, this is the only thing I am fucking living for… with that gone, I’ll be gone too. Although I wouldn’t blame Holt for firing me because let’s be real, everyone and I mean everyone is better off without me. 

A solitary tear rolls down my cheek and onto my shirts collar.

"I’m really not worth the hassle" I whisper inaudibly.


	5. Chapter 5

I’m so tired. I’m just so fucking tired. Amy went back to work, Holt suggested I take a couple days off because I said how tired I was at work yesterday, now I’m alone and beating myself up for even talking to Holt about fucking anything. 

It’s all my fault

I just want to be fucking normal

Why is it so damn hard to be fucking normal?

Sighing, I hold my phone and scroll aimlessly through Facebook with one eye open and one eye closed, face smushed against my teal pillow. 

I’m just so tired  
But not a tired which can fixed by sleep, it’s just a chronic tired which can’t be fixed, and it just makes me feel so damn helpless. 

“Hey, Babe?” Amy pokes  
Shit, I must’ve fell asleep  
“Have you gotten up at all today, Jake?” She prods

Gently Amy rubs her dainty fingers over my arms as if to look for something.  
Panic rushes through my veins.  
Can she feel the newly raised skin?

“Jake, I need to ask you something honey and I need you to be honest with me…I’ve been googling about your condition and-“ she starts

“My condition?” I laugh

“I’m fine Ames I promise, I’ll tell you when I’m not” I fight defence etched in my voice.  
Amy’s soft chocolate eyes soften, almost sadly.  
“You’ve been wearing a lot of long-sleeved shirts lately and not wanted to have sex and I also saw in Holts office-“ she starts but I promptly shut her down.  
“Amy, no. please don’t make me do this, I don’t think sometimes before I do things, I just do them… you know” I snap defensively  
Taken aback, Amy glances over to my arms and her eyes go glassy.

“can I see please?” she prompts.  
“Ames, I don’t think you want me to show you…I’ll stop though, as long as you don’t make me show you my arms” I plead, helplessly.  
She sighs and steps closer, eyes narrowed.  
“How do I know if you’ve stopped if you never show me, Jake?” she asks through almost gritted teeth.  
I know I’m scaring her; I don’t want to. I just want to be a good boyfriend and love her as a normal person…my worries being what case I’m working on instead of how to hide slices on my arms and legs…I’m so tired of this life, Amy doesn’t deserve this. 

I wouldn’t blame her if she left me, I mean I would leave me too. 

“fine” I hiss.  
So, I roll up my delicate long sleeves revealing my crimson creations. Her jaw drops open.  
“Jake…honey” she starts.  
“No, just please don’t say anything Amy I will stop, but I don’t want you to say anything I know they’re really bad and such” I cry out of desperation.  
I don’t want to lose her  
I can’t fucking do this  
If she leaves me, I won’t blame her though. 

I’m just not fucking worth it.

Everyone will drop me when they can, I wouldn’t blame them but I can’t lie…it fucking hurts. I had a friend back in college who only befriended me when time was right for them, I was always there for them…dropped literately everything for them, but when we came off summer break, he wanted nothing to do with me. He was suddenly too fucking busy to even spare me a text and I felt abandoned. I know they were a toxic friend but a part of me feels like I deserved that friendship blowing up in my face. I gave my all into that friendship, it was just us two for the entire summer until they went back to college and just stopped texting me, making me beg for even a simple fucking text. 

I still get flashbacks from those times.  
It sounds pathetic but I don’t even care.  
Everything is awful and I just feel so invalid, I should be fucking happy I have everything some men fucking dream of and then there’s me willing to end it all.  
Amy rubs my arm gently.  
“We’ll get through this; we’ll get you help” she whispers.  
“I don’t need help” I whisper back.  
“Yes, we both know you do” she responds immediately.  
“Please don’t tell Holt about this, I need him to think I’m stable enough to work” I trail off.  
“we can handle it together, just please don’t do it again…or when you want to, call me or yell for me…okay?” she softly says.

I know I’m not worth this, I’m not worth her fucking time. I feel so helpless and useless, but it doesn’t fucking matter because I know everyone is friends with me because they feel sorry for me. I bet they’ll leave me like my friend did in college.  
I always tell myself not to get attached.  
Never get attached.

Keep a solid, safe front.

You’re perfectly fine, remember?


	6. Chapter 6

Fake it till you make it.

Fake it till you motherfucking make it.

They’re all fooled for the moment; they think I’m fine when realistically I’m still dying inside but nobody needs to know that…do they?

All masked up with fake smiles and pressed uniform.

Is that all it takes?

Looking down at my sliced arms I wince in sheer regret of my previous actions, nobody asks about my arms because it’s approaching winter and we’re in mid fall so it’s normal for people to be walking around the precinct in long sleeved shirts. 

Walking briskly out the elevator I repeat to myself in my head…

Nobody cares, fake it till you make it…pretend you have it all figured out and just play it all like a fucking game, do not tell anyone ANYTHING…do you hear me? ANYTHING.  
Casually walking into the precinct, I flash Boyle one of my signature ‘everything-is-fine’ smiles and throw some finger guns in Rosas general direction.   
Everyone is sitting down mid-working, Holt put me on a half day today because he wanted to make sure I don’t overwork myself… well, that’s what he said anyway… I’m not too sure yet if I actually believe he has good intentions if I’m totally honest though.

“Peralta here’s a stack of this paperwork and I need it done within fifteen minutes as I have a lawyer on route to this precinct and they cannot wait” Holt commands whilst dumping a fresh pile of paperwork onto my desk.

Did I hear that right?

Fifteen minutes?

I open my mouth to protest but he’s already in his office dialling up to make another phone call. 

Holt does this sometimes, he expects us to be able to do everything so quickly and in the best quality…I wish he knew human brains sometimes don’t work that fast.

Especially a depressed one at that.

Sighing I pick up the stack of paperwork and start to sort through the mess of words, barely able to concentrate on the writing and pre-panicking about not having this done on time for Holt   
and his client.

See how useless you are as a worker?

I wonder why Holt hasn’t fired you…is it the Peralta pity party?

“shut up shut up shut up!” I growl to the voices, earning some concerned and confused glances from my co-workers. 

Can’t I get a fucking break from my own mind, ever?

Am I stuck like this forever?

Shut up Jake, fake it till you make it…fake it until you make it.

Nobody suspects a thing.  
Do I want them to see through my game?

No...

I don’t.

It’s safer just me, myself, and I…everyone else will use my weaknesses against me like they do sometimes, like they used to when I was a child.  
And I’m not about to let that happen.


	7. Chapter 7

I'm constantly on edge now, Holts rival has come to the precinct and he wants the 99 to look and be the best precinct there ever was... which is a lot of pressure on all of us.

"Peralta!" Holt barks.  
I look up with fear stricken eyes, ready for the blow.  
"You're so incompetent, how could you have categorized all of this section incorrectly?" he starts.

Not now Jake not now.

"I'm very sorry sir, I will do better" I say.

He nods his head.

And that's when the breathing starts to quicken, faster and faster until completely out of my control.  
Fuck.

I need to get out, but I need to punish myself for failing, for being a waste of fucking space.  
I eye the pencil sharpener sitting in my desk drawer and quickly slip it in my pocket for safe keeping.

Scanning the room slowly my eyes lock on the door to leave, getting up I stumble a little causing Holt to look up from his conversation with Sargent Jeffords.

Briskly walking out of the room I take a sharp turn to the mens restroom and lock the door.

Come on Jake, you're almost a month clean...you can do this, you can do this.  
Fuck it.

Stamping on the pencil sharpener I hear the weak plastic shatter and the blade is exposed.

My escape, my sweet sweet escape.

Gliding it across my forearm I feel a wave of dizziness but then a sweet wave of relief.

Dripping onto the tile floor I stare in amazement at the crimson liquid running down my arm.

"You deserved this" I whisper through gritted teeth.

"Jake, are you in here?" a male voice asks.

Shit.

Uhhhhhh

"Yeah just y'know doing my business" I lie.

"Are you ok?" He asks.

I laugh to myself staring down at my arm.

"Never better Sir" I smile.

"Stop lying to me, I know you're not okay because there's a thousand pieces of plastic on the floor scattered across the whole bathroom" he begins.

Shit, that stuff really flies huh?

"Had a ruler in my pocket Sir, then I went to sit down on the toilet to y'know do my business and then it broke and shattered everywhere" I lie smugly

I think he bought the story because then he told me to come by for a quick chat when i'm done in the bathroom and that thought alone again really scares me.

Looking down I really realise what I actually have done.  
What have I done?

I fucked up.


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N: sorry for the hiatus here and there, work has been quite busy with the second lockdown (I’m a nursery teacher) and I haven’t had a lot of time to sit down and write a chapter or two, I wrote this on my phone so I’m hoping there’s not many grammatical errors and if there are please accept my apologies!  
Stay safe! Love, Angel.

Observing my crimson creations all up my arms I take a deep breath in. 

This isn’t a major setback, this is fine. 

Some people do drugs to cope with life, I cut myself... I mean potato potate-o right?

After wrapping tissue around my arm a thousand times and wrapping it into each layer I wrap around I put on the biggest smile I could manage showing off my icy white toothed smile. 

Pfft it’s amazing what a smile can hide really. 

I confidently waltze into Holts office still wearing that same artificial smile. 

“Peralta, we’re not here to babysit you. We’re not going to keep carrying you through, it’s sink or swim”. He starts officially. 

“I know Sir, I will do better and you absolutely positiutely do not need to carry me through anything and I am an adult who definitely doesn’t need babysitting... captain” I start back defensively. 

Fuck him honestly, I didn’t mean to become a whole ass burden on the universe. Or on them.  
The worlds so much better off without me. 

What do I give this universe? 

I keep failing every time and the people I thought who could help me are turning on me. 

It’s only a matter of time before Amy gets tired of me too, I mean I wouldn’t blame her. I’d be tired of me too. 

We smile at eachother, falsely of course and I walk out of the office with that fake ass smile still plastered on my face. 

Just another day in paradise. 

I don’t even know why I try anymore. 

I’m just done. I can feel the blood seeping through my make shift bandage onto my light blue shirt. Fuck it, I’ll deal with it when I get home. So I grab my dark leather jacket and slip it on. 

“Aren’t you hot in that Jake it’s like a billion degrees in here dude?” Rosa enquires, raising a suspicious eyebrow. 

“Nah I’m feeling a little chilly, I could be coming down with something” I try and laugh off. 

Rosa cocks her head to the side in thought. 

“Take care of yourself Jake” she states blankly. 

That might be the nicest thing I have ever heard Rosa Diaz say to anybody. 

I smile sweetly, she has no idea. 

Truly I don’t think anyone has any idea what’s actually going on in my fucked up brain...

Including me.


End file.
